by TwoPiece » Fri Nov 29, 2019 7:18 am
I think this might be the section you mean, let me know
* * * He remained an attentive student of “the Life,” as Jimmy Alto and others referred to their chosen calling. He also took lessons from a new tutor. At a family wedding he met Joseph Schiavo, the cousin by marriage who was the co-owner of the garment factory where his aunt Mildred had worked. Tall and totally bald, Schiavo was an imposing figure. “He reminded me of that actor, Erich Von Stroheim. He had that look.” Schiavo’s connections were equally impressive. His partner in the garment name Luchese, he now understood, ranked alongside Luciano, Costello, Genovese, and Anastasia in the Mafia pantheon. Even more impressive, his cousin Joe was a top member of Luchese’s family. Known among wiseguys as “Joe Reese,” Schiavo lived in the Canarsie neighborhood of south Brooklyn near the Queens border. When Al met him, Schiavo was in his late forties. He was partners with Luchese in more than a dozen garment shops, as well as trucking firms and supply companies. Each had its own favorable union contract and a market niche that no competitor dared challenge. Another part-owner in the shops was an old man of the mob named Torrido Curiale, who presided over the family’s Brooklyn crew with Schiavo as his top lieutenant. “I learned a lot from Joe Schiavo. He knew the whole history of the mob. He could trace back the families to where they started and the wars they had.” Among the history lessons he imparted to the young student was that the first American-based mob family had originated in Newark, not in New Orleans, as is generally believed. “It was called La Chiesa, the Church. The family that Tommy Luchese headed was the descendant of that first group.” The American mob had fought its own war of independence, Schiavo told him. “It was decided back under Luciano that the old Italian crime gangs, the Camorra, the Sicilian Mafia, and the ’Ndrangheta from Calabria, wouldn’t have any had killers who went around the country taking out the old guys who wanted to stay aligned with the Italian families.” One of those traveling executioners, Al was fascinated to learn, was Leo Lauritano, the smiling baker at the Navy Street café he’d visited as a small child with his grandparents. Another was his other mentor, Jimmy Alto, who had also been a traveling hitman, enforcing the new regime’s rules, he was told. Schiavo imparted tips as well as history lessons. “He knew a lot of places we could knock off if we were careful and smart. We started making good scores through him, hitting dress rooms, and factories.” Schiavo never asked for a share of the proceeds, Al noted, even though he was rightfully entitled to one. “I’d bring a couple cases of good olive oil as a thank-you. He never asked for more than that.” But the older mobster did stake his claim. He informed Al that he was now “with” the Luchese family. It was like putting the family brand on the budding mobster. Any future criminal enterprises Al launched would be under the Luchese umbrella. Al had no objections. In fact, he was delighted. * * *
I think this might be the section you mean, let me know
* * * He remained an attentive student of “the Life,” as Jimmy Alto and others referred to their chosen calling. He also took lessons from a new tutor. At a family wedding he met Joseph Schiavo, the cousin by marriage who was the co-owner of the garment factory where his aunt Mildred had worked. Tall and totally bald, Schiavo was an imposing figure. “He reminded me of that actor, Erich Von Stroheim. He had that look.” Schiavo’s connections were equally impressive. His partner in the garment name Luchese, he now understood, ranked alongside Luciano, Costello, Genovese, and Anastasia in the Mafia pantheon. Even more impressive, his cousin Joe was a top member of Luchese’s family. Known among wiseguys as “Joe Reese,” Schiavo lived in the Canarsie neighborhood of south Brooklyn near the Queens border. When Al met him, Schiavo was in his late forties. He was partners with Luchese in more than a dozen garment shops, as well as trucking firms and supply companies. Each had its own favorable union contract and a market niche that no competitor dared challenge. Another part-owner in the shops was an old man of the mob named Torrido Curiale, who presided over the family’s Brooklyn crew with Schiavo as his top lieutenant. “I learned a lot from Joe Schiavo. He knew the whole history of the mob. He could trace back the families to where they started and the wars they had.” Among the history lessons he imparted to the young student was that the first American-based mob family had originated in Newark, not in New Orleans, as is generally believed. “It was called La Chiesa, the Church. The family that Tommy Luchese headed was the descendant of that first group.” The American mob had fought its own war of independence, Schiavo told him. “It was decided back under Luciano that the old Italian crime gangs, the Camorra, the Sicilian Mafia, and the ’Ndrangheta from Calabria, wouldn’t have any had killers who went around the country taking out the old guys who wanted to stay aligned with the Italian families.” One of those traveling executioners, Al was fascinated to learn, was Leo Lauritano, the smiling baker at the Navy Street café he’d visited as a small child with his grandparents. Another was his other mentor, Jimmy Alto, who had also been a traveling hitman, enforcing the new regime’s rules, he was told. Schiavo imparted tips as well as history lessons. “He knew a lot of places we could knock off if we were careful and smart. We started making good scores through him, hitting dress rooms, and factories.” Schiavo never asked for a share of the proceeds, Al noted, even though he was rightfully entitled to one. “I’d bring a couple cases of good olive oil as a thank-you. He never asked for more than that.” But the older mobster did stake his claim. He informed Al that he was now “with” the Luchese family. It was like putting the family brand on the budding mobster. Any future criminal enterprises Al launched would be under the Luchese umbrella. Al had no objections. In fact, he was delighted. * * *